


The Otiose of Anders

by Miss_Wishful_Thinking



Series: Sinners Are Never The Winners; Angsty Mainly Anders Centric One-Shots [1]
Category: The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anders is depressed, Anders is so done, Angst, Drug Abuse, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, I don't know, I have only read fanfics in this fandom, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lots of it, My First Fanfic, Or Is It?, Poor Anders, Sad feels all around, Suicide, Why Did I Write This?, am I a horrible person?, angst!anders, bad methods of coping, grab a box of tissues, have I covered everything?, he kills himself in this, i have not watched the show, i suck at making things clear, i think i am, im a horible person, just read it, just to warn ya, like literally - Freeform, like major time, like seriously, maybe? - Freeform, oh yeah I love screwing with peoples minds, sad!Anders, so I know NO time lines at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 14:25:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7271854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Wishful_Thinking/pseuds/Miss_Wishful_Thinking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Otiose.   An Adjective.   Meaning;    serving no practical purpose or result.</p>
<p>  Anders knows that he is a dick, and a asshole, and a bastard, and a jerk, and a complete douche, and a fuck up, and... well.. he didn't have anything else to live for.</p>
<p>(My first posted fanfic. ;p  I hope it hits you in the feels.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Otiose of Anders

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this piece kinda got ahead of me. I literally just started watching The Almighty Johnsons two days ago and so far I am half way through the first season and am totally hooked on it enough to write a fanfic about it. Now mind you this usually only happens when I get so deep into a fandom that I will be forever lost in it and my girlfriend of three years won't even be able to pull me out through bedtime favors and well I guess this is what I get for learning to like to read. Trust me, it sure as hell took me long enough to get over my phobia of all things reading. But what can I say? Reading fanfiction is the cure for everything. And even though my girlfriend won't admit that it really is the cure for everything I know that her laptop has no less than 300 pages of fanfic's for various fandom's bookmarked under the file named “Her Head Is Already Too Big”. I would be lying if I didn't find that a little bit insulting but I love her and I also know that she is usually right, even in this, though I hate to admit it. Anyway the point is that I have no idea where this came from but it was slightly inspired by my instant soft spot for Anders and my perfect girlfriends comment when she watched it with me, “Wow the shortest guy is a dick.” And well if you read this you will know the rest of the story. So read away give me a Kudos if you like it or if you don't, don't. Oh and also a Comment would be lovely and not just because I can rub it in my girlfriends face that I am a good writer albeit with horrible spelling and grammar and a complete lack in the motivation area when it comes to double checking my work. I honestly have no idea how I am even going to get through college. I really don't. Anyway, (again), read and enjoy, or don't I really don't even know why I even created an account to post this to. Ta ta for now and see you on the other side for any authors notes I have the motivation to leave at the end. 
> 
> ~PS ~ I forgot to add that I may have probably (most likely) not gotten a bit of anything in this right when it comes to the time lines and all that but I still haven't gotten to the second half of the first season yet -plus I have a shitty memory- and I most picked up whatever is in this that is right from other fanfic's that I have read prior to starting one of my own. That's all for now I think. Continue on if you choose to do so. Ta ta and all that crap. 
> 
> ~ Maggie ;p

**The Otiose of Anders**

 

Anders knows that he is a dick, and a asshole, and a bastard, and a jerk, and a complete douche, and a fuck up, and... he could go on for months years even and not cover everything he is, not cover every single thing that has been thrown in his face and at his head from behind since well for as far back as he can remember. Which isn't saying much since he is pretty sure that all of the drugs he has done and all of the alcohol he has drank over the years has at least fried half of his brain and is probably also in the process of killing off his liver and maybe, no there is no doubt about it, also destroying the functioning order of several of his other internal organs that he actually needs to have in working condition to live.

 

Not that he cares about his continued existence in the living word right now but it would still be nice to not die because his body couldn't cope with his own coping methods, he doesn't want to go out that way. But he would like to think that he has more flare than that, hell he deserves more than that if he deserves anything at all with all of his screw ups and momentous fuck ups that he has made in his life. And he can't even blame all on them on Bragi, well most of them were done under his influence but also the good majority of them were just his own pitiful attempts at trying to help.

 

Well look how well _that_ has ever turned out for him. He has been bruised, battered and bloodied by the people he claims as family, been disowned by said same people, had people try to kill him, and then some even died in his place, he has been used and only looked to for Bragi not Anders for just damn long. And frankly he can't take it anymore.

 

His body cannot take any more abuse whether it is from his own hands or his brothers, and his mind sure as hell cannot take one more round of see-how-far-we-can-push-Anders-before-he-finally-gives-up-and-understands-that-we-don't-need-him courtesy of his brothers. Part of the reason he had slept with Val to begin with was because he was at his breaking point and had been too broken to reject her advances, too weak to resist Bragi's constant voice in his head urging him to do things he didn't and shouldn't want to do, just too fucking lost within himself to face the world like the man he apparently is suppose to be and buck up enough courage to leave on his own.

 

No, instead he had royally screwed over his own brothers maybe-wife because he wasn't brave enough by himself to find a way to just get out of the life he had back then so instead tried and succeeded to force Mike to get rid of him himself and save himself in the process from making what Anders had seen at the time to be the biggest bloody mistake Mike could ever make in his life. Even though he had never had very good example of how a relationship is suppose to work and even less semi-good role models to bash it into his head hard enough to stick until his dying day Anders was pretty sure that a relationship built on guilt and grief wasn't going to last or while it did it wasn't going to be very pretty.

 

Well it worked, it always does for him even if it doesn't -and by that he means it never\- ends up with him coming out of it smelling like daisies or really anything close to anything other than the drunken bastard his so called family thinks him to be. He's not even sure he can call them his family anymore.

 

He's lost track of just how many times he has been knocked about in or kicked out Mike's bar. Of how many times he has had every single one of the mistakes he has ever made thrown back into his face followed more times then not by several punches and a door in his face. And he has lost track of just how many times one of his brothers has verbally disowned him. And he just can't take it anymore.

 

Drinking doesn't help quite the voices in his head that continually pick up where Mike leaves off telling him that he is worthless in his brothers' eyes that he is completely useless to them and the only reason they put up with him is because they need Bragi not Anders. Coke, weed, hell even heroin won't shut them up or let him sleep for longer than a half hour at a time anymore. And its wearing on him more than he cares to admit.

 

Its not like Bragi is helping any either, if anything he is making it worse because the smooth talking mother fucker of a God won't go away at all not even in the few sparse moments of sleep and the only way to get rid of him would be nothing short of killing himself. Not that he is totally opposed to the idea, he had contemplated it more times than he can count and has almost went through with it even more times but he couldn't even get that right.

 

Mike was right, is right, they all are. All Anders is really good for is Bragi, and even Bragi was disposable and useless in his brothers eyes. And if he didn't have Bragi? Well then they wouldn't want Anders at all.

 

He use to think the world of Mike. He was his big brother, the one who picked him up from school and could make everything better with a band aid when he fell and scraped his knee. He helped to block out the sounds of their parents yelling, he use to _care_.

 

Now? He couldn't see anything of that version of Mikkel in the Mike that had taken his place now. The old Mike would have never yelled at him until each loud word chipped away a bit more of what was left of his soul, he never would have hit him like their parent's use to do after things got bad, he just never would do anything to hurt him. But just like Mike wasn't Mikkel anymore, Anders wasn't Andy anymore either. And it hurt more than he would ever say out loud, more than he would even admit to himself in a whisper in his head.

 

Then again, he use to think that Ty understood him on some level. He was the only person Anders had ever really let himself open up even just a little bit to, it had only been Ty who saw just how much it hurt him when their mom ran off to become a tree. Only Ty saw what Mike's leaving them did to him and how much his coming back into their lives and changing things for the worse _again_ had sent him towards the first steps leading to the edge. And only ever had Ty and Dawn had had the chance to see that part of him, (and he somehow still managed to screw over the two people he trusted the most) though those times had admittedly gotten shorter and farther between over resent years only really appearing again when he got too smashed to bother to keep up his shields.

 

Thankfully neither of them even mentioned those... incidents. Or if they did it was where he couldn't hear and they had sworn whoever they told about his weakness to silence on pain of death by either freezing or strangulation courtesy of Ty's fists of icy fury and Dawn's finely manicured hands. He was thankful for that at least though he liked to think that he could trust them and that they hadn't told anyone. Unlikely really, why would they when he wouldn't do the same for them? When he _hadn't_ done the same thing for them in the past?

 

And Axl? His baby brother hated him and for what, something he couldn't help? It was Bragi who slept with his girlfriend not Anders. Anders had just been too weak to resist what Bragi wanted him to do. You can't stop something from happening if it was meant to happen. As wrong as that sounds considering everything that went down and just how much he fucked up because of it, it wasn't really him that did the deed, it wasn't Anders.

 

He would never do that to his baby brother just as he hadn't done it to their older brother, at least not on purpose. Sure he was a prick but whether his brothers chose to believe it or not he did have some messed up code of honor. At least he did when he was Anders and not Bragi or Bragi-Anders. But they didn't even listen to him, no, they didn't even try to understand his side of things. All they knew was that their bastard screw up of a brother had fucked up major time, _again_.

 

And though he would like to think that it had only been Odin and not Axl who kicked him shit ass skywards and ground-ward again he also knew that that sentiment was just wishful thinking. The young naive oblivious to the evils of the world and weaknesses of his older brother kid Axl use to be was long gone and in its place was a man over a head taller than him who whenever he looked at Anders his eyes filled with an otherworldly fury that made even everything-just-rolls-off-me-Bragi cower and shake in his boots.

 

In those moments when he receives those looks from his beloved baby brother it is never clearer to him that the little boy he use to let into his bed during thunderstorms or when their parents were fighting again was no longer there or if it was Anders was no longer privy to being granted the privilege of seeing that side of Axl.

 

The little boy who use to come to him with the innocent trust of a child, who was never in doubt that his big brother Andy could fix anything that was wrong and would tell him the truth no matter what, his big brother Andy who comforted him when he was sad and protected him from the school bullies and their parents when it was _that_ kind of bad day, his big brother Andy who was always there with a ready genuine smile and kind words to cheer him up, his big brother Andy that would never in a thousand years do anything to upset him, his big brother who was his brother no longer.

 

He stopped being that Anders the moment he turned twenty-one and Bragi made himself a permanent fixture in his life. After all that is what banishment and being disowned by your younger brothers and older brother meant, that he was no longer their brother and since Odin had banished Bragi for an undefined amount of time he was near mortal except for the part where he could still hear and sense the damned god that he had been cursed with to be his vessel.

 

If he were honest with himself, and the gods know he tries and tries to be anything but that for fear of what part of him would crumble apart next should he accept the truth of his life for what it really was, he didn't even miss the faint weak power being Bragi's vessel gave him over other people, ever since he got it he had been hurtling towards disaster with no way to slow down or stop. It changed him. It is _still_ changing him to the point that even he doesn't know who he is anymore and you know that its gotten beyond bad when you look into a mirror an no longer recognize your reflection as yourself.

 

What's the point of being a god and having a power to literally almost bring himself complete happiness in the form of sex and booze and the gift to convince people to do whatever he wants them to do when all it brings is grief and sorrow and _madness_? When it makes everyone he loves and cares about hate him?

 

Many times in recent months, no _years_ , he has felt that the only person in his family that even cares to see his side of things his his grandfather. Sure Olaf has never stood up to his brothers for him any of the times they went just a little too far. And maybe yeah, he also wasn't there when he was younger and needed him back when he still thought that he was their 'cool' cousin who was more buzzed out hippie friend who said weird things all the time but didn't care much if Anders got into one of his stashes as long as he left enough for him to have some too.

 

But at least he cared enough for him that he always kept him supplied with the good stuff that almost never let the voices break through the haze they put him into. And most times after a particularly bad row he comes to his apartment or wherever Anders had dragged himself off to to nurse his wounds and reminiscence for better days and at least tries or attempts to patch him up in his own way. To Anders it really was the thought that counted in his mind, whether or not the thought was meant to hurt him or nudge him back to a strong enough place that his shields wouldn't falter too much when things came to a head like they always tend to do much sooner than would like.

 

It was unhealthy he knew, not just the near constant state of drunkenness or being high out of his mind from the various cocktails of drugs that were nearly always in his system at some level of strength or another. But he had quite frankly given up the dangerous line of thought that led to pointless day dreams of hope and things one day finally turning out for the better. For the past to be forgotten or to be able for just an hour or two to go back to those few short first years of his life where his mother had been happy and his father not a drunk. Back when Mike was his protector not his some kind of messed up condemner and when Ty hadn't had the need to rely on him to be the grown up who was able to do everything that needed to be done and Axl had been nothing but a toddler just freshly out of his infant days who never stopped babbling and giving everyone gummy toothless smiles that made everything small or large that went wrong seem alright for a little while.

 

It truly was pointless for him to wish for those days to come back. He had screwed up too much too many times, the words that had been dealt out and the actions that had already occurred couldn't be taken back. The damage was done already, he wasn't bent or barely bruised, he was completely and utterly broken trying with everything he had to not let it show.

 

He was the bad guy, the villain in a family of self proclaimed hero's and he always would be because his brothers needed him to and he would always do whatever he could should it be within his powers to do so to help his brothers with whatever they needed from him asked for or not.

 

They might not acknowledge him as their brother anymore and he might need to be finally done with everything they have thrown at him regardless to if he was already down and defenseless on the ground, but god damn it! He loved his brothers no matter how much he sometimes wished he didn't. But he did, and he knew that one day it would kill him. It was killing him slowly and painfully from the inside out and by the gods but he didn't care anymore, he welcomed it with open arms because he was just so fucking tired that every minute that went by was a struggle and every morning he wished that he had both had the courage to end it all the night before and that he had a truly real excuse besides that he was 'tired' so he could stay in his bed forever to slowly waste away by himself.

 

After all, with everything he has done he doesn't deserve an easy way out, his sins allotted to more than that, he deserved for it to be treacherously slow and agonizingly painful. He deserved it. That's why he hadn't already blown his brains out with the gun he kept locked up in the top drawer of his bed side table or vertically slit his wrist or even hung himself already. He just had too much to atone for to get away with welcoming death that easily so as much as he hated the thought of it and as much as his damned pride rebelled against an ending without so much as a sprinkle of his usual fake flare he had resigned himself to slowly drinking, smoking and shooting himself up as much as it would take for his body to finally fail him.

 

It would be embarrassing of course, but also somewhat ironically strangely poetic that the vessel of Bragi the good of poetry would be taken out by his own chosen vices, that he would die from one of the things -besides sex (but who could blame him for actively seeking out human contact that wasn't the normal physical abuse he always received from his family?)- he had used his silver words and smoother than silk tongue most to prattle about and get.

 

And yet he felt that this slow death by alcohol poisoning and body withering drug use was still more than he deserved. After everything he has done he is willing to put his fate in his brothers hands and have it done with, at least he knew that they wouldn't grant him a quiet and hasty death. Then again if the knew that he went to them to end his life they would deny him because Bragi was too valuable to them, he was only an asset that was called to working order when they had use of him.

 

They have never wanted _Anders_ , they have never cared about Anders or even Andy when they were young, it was always all about the older brother who they knew would take the blame for their mistakes, the brother who would never tell them “No” and the brother who willingly without a thought about his own well being or whether or not he would get a thanks afterwards step in front of them and take a punch or a kick or a god damned broken glass beer bottle to the head.

 

They have always wanted the punching-bag-sucker-version or Andy or the useful-only-when-they-need-him-but-otherwise-irrevilent-second-eldest-Johnson-brother Anders who they knew would come to their every beck and call every single fucking time because he was just that stupid enough to think that if he only did one more thing for them they would understand. And maybe, just maybe by some miracle or cosmic chance, they would finally see clearly enough to be able to get to know the _real_ Anders not the fucking jerk off of a bastard he has had to become.

 

But again, it is only wishful thinking, nothing more and nothing less. It is with these thoughts racing through his head at light speed that he forces himself up into a standing position, using the wall as a kind of crutch, from where he had been sitting curled up into himself against the far wall staring unseeingly at his fish -they for once not helping in calming his mind at all- and made his way nearly falling over several times only to catch himself on a nearby piece of furniture or wall undaunted in his quest to search out another bottle of alcohol.

 

He really wasn't picky at this point he only wanted the echoing voices to go away for a couple minutes to let his thoughts settle at least somewhat and only had the faint thought that he hoped he still had something left of his many hidden stashes that he had placed in random but well hidden places around his apartment. He knew that he had already gone through all of his reserves of Whiskey and the few bottles of Gin along with the very expensive bottle of good wine he brook out if he was in the right mood and even all of the cheap beer he always had stashed in one of the bottom cabinets in the kitchen for when Axl or Olaf use to still come over to raid his fridge and empty half of his supply of booze.

 

He never complained just like he could never tell any of his family “No” either. He was a god damned trained hound for his families use happy to beg for any scraps they gave him and he really only had himself to blame, he only had himself to blame for everything. Mike at least got that part right though he wished that for once in his life his brother would have gotten something wrong. But no, he was the vessel of the god damned god of games and bloody fucking luck plus he was his older brother and he somehow still foolishly held onto the idea that his older brother knew the answer to everything and could fix anything that was wrong no matter how big or small the problem at the time was.

 

After coming up empty when looking in all of the spots he had ever hidden a stiff drink before in the kitchen he had found a couple bottles of the liquid courage and only to find that they were empty with the very faint memory of already having drank them at some point during the last three days that he had been lazing around in the misery that was his own one person only personal pity party Anders was left to continue his search stumbling and tripping too many times for his slow drink numbed mind to count and made his way around his apartment to look in every other place he knew or at least remembered hiding some kind of booze or illegal drug.

 

It was an incredibly exhausting process which really came to no surprise to him but he was at last rewarded when he finally found the last of what could be the only liqueur he had left in his all too humble abode. Humble because with all the money he had been making from the firm over the years -never minding that it had seen a slight but continued decrease in outflow in the last year or so- he could have been living in a much better residence but because he still felt some kind of stupid attachment to far things were when he was just a kid he had decided on investing in an apartment in an up start building that still had the class he desired both as Bragi and as some sort of reward for making his way through Uni with having to call Mike up for money or let loose Bragi on the faculty to get through each class and honestly it was enough for him and of course it suited its purpose as a bachelor pad that his one night stands could appreciate for all of maybe thirty seconds.

 

But it was enough because inner demons and Mike's condemning aside Anders really had done well for himself. Not to say he didn't have a whole hell of a lot of regrets because he did but he really _really_ tried not to drag up the past when the present could most times be ten times better. It was just a bit disappointing really that for as much as he liked his apartment and all the places he has found it offered him to stash stuff all that turned up from his search through at least fifteen stash places if his fuzzy memory of the last few minutes -or hours he didn't know- was three bottles of albeit very strong and very expensively good Vodka, two bunts of the really good stuff that Olaf must have left at his place the last time he came to crash on his couch, barely enough Coke to give him even the smallest bit of a high and somehow just enough heroin in perfectly prepared liquid form to send him well on his way into a coma if not the death he really wanted.

 

It really was tempting to just take it all then and there, and he would have if he hadn't been so busy trying to figure out where he had gotten it or rather _when_. Sure it might have been dragged in by one of his many one night stands but it seemed unlikely seeing as it was in his most favored utterly secret even from his oracle grandfather hiding place that even he forgot where it was when he got too smashed. And he would have never put anything they may have left in his place after they left _there_ , not when it was the place he also kept his most precious items that he kept from when things had been better.

 

Axl's baby bracelet that he had come home from the hospital after being born with on his wrist along with a small cut off piece of nearly sand colored curls that he had taken from the pile of cut off hair when Axl had first gotten his hair trimmed, before it had gotten darker leaving Anders once again the only blond Johnson brother.

 

He also had a small blue feather from the little bird Ty had brought home cradled carefully in his hands when he was six and innocent fully believing that Anders could magically fix the birds broken wing with a single kiss and a small Power Rangers covered band-aid. And along with that was a crudely drawn picture of four fish the biggest one golden with green eyes that Ty had drawn for him one of _those_ days where their father was worse and their mother and Mike were nowhere to be found to make things better.

 

And on the bottom the the false floor board in the far left corner of his closet was a picture of Mike giving a little kid Andy -who couldn't have been any older than five at the time the picture was taken- a piggy back ride two great big grins stretched across their mouths as they stood frozen for all of time in this picture, a picture of what they use to be. And tapped to the back of the picture was a poorly made colorfully painted be-sparkled macaroni necklace that Mike had helped him make for something to bring into class for show-and-tell.

 

They were are mementos of some of his best memories with his brothers, the only things that he had left to remind him of a time when his brothers loved him as much as he loves them, the only things he has left to remind him that he was not just Bragi but that there was also still some part of Anders inside him somewhere still strong enough to keep these little utterly priceless treasures of better times and beloved childhood memories.

 

For several moments both of his hands are left floating over them in indecision as he fought with the only still half ways functional part of himself to either get up and leave them behind again to forever sit here in the dark or to pick them up and crush them to his chest and let the sobs that have building up in his chest, his very _being_ , for years out as he clung to them like they were the only things he had left in the world that he could call his own.

 

In the end he did neither, instead he merely curled up further into himself on his closet floor pulling all three bottles of very potent Vodka towards him before without any hesitation opening them each one by one to tip back and drain down his throat in endlessly long gulps as his vision blurred -from either tears or drunken exhaustion he didn't know- all the while never looking away of the tattered remains he had left of his child hood.

 

Eventually all three bottles were completely empty and though he felt like he needed to piss like a race horse he refrained and turned his attention to both bunts next blindly fumbling for the lighter he always kept in one of his pockets at all time just in case Olaf forgot his own -which he always did without fail- and then with shaking nearly totally numb hands he lit both bunts at once and lifted them both to his mouth at the same time cursing himself for his insanely high alcohol tolerance when he needed it to be as shit ass poor as he had been when he went to Uni without financial support from his so called family.

 

But even after the bunts had been finished and fell onto the closet floor beside his feet the embers gone with nothing more than a half a centimeter of a stub left from where his lips had been breathing in and out the intoxicating smoke that in the past had nearly always guaranteed a night full of blissful silence where the voices were finally gone long enough to let him sleep. But even that did not shut up the voices if anything they only seemed to scream their voices louder in his ears until they were ringing painful and a migraine the size of Olympus was pounding around like an enraging Odin in his skull. He was barely aware of himself sobbing breathlessly, unknowingly flinching at the sound of his own broken desperate voice.

 

He had done it, he had finally cracked and suddenly the silence of his apartment and the overly loud voices in his head were too much so he blindly reached for the Coke from where he last remembered placing it. Opening the packet hurriedly before messily snorting it up right from the bag missing most of it but not caring as he threw it away from him, his body now shaking from the strength of his sobs.

 

Next moving to reach out over what was left of his best memories with his brothers in physical form and back into the hide away taking out the rubber belt and syringe that he wasn't even sure was still sanitary enough for him to be using but finding again that he didn't care went ahead and tried but failed to carefully fill the syringe with what he was sure would finally be his salvation unheeding of the now screaming voices in his head which roared back to him his earlier thoughts that he didn't deserve to go out this easy as he clumsily flicked it twice to get rid of any air bubbles.

 

The motions of tying the rubber belt around his upper bicep gave his chest a slightly warm feeling that was much too familiar, leaving him feeling just a little guilty that he was going back on his promise to his grandfather that he wouldn't use this particular substance again after the last time his grandfather had found him nearly comatose from a close call with a near over dose. His grandfather had yelled at him, honest to god yelled at him, demanding Anders to tell him if he meant to over dose and then begging him not to answer him if he had meant to do it.

 

He hadn't answered because at that moment being held against his grandfathers chest being rocked back and forth in his arms like he was still Andy to someone he didn't know if he had done it on purpose and he truly hadn't wanted to ruin the moment of the first physical touch any of his family had given him in a long time that didn't hurt him. He can still remember Olaf's face hanging above his own as he tried to coax him back into the world of the waking. He had seemed to worried for Anders of all people, almost broken and his eyes were as clear as he had ever seen them, unclouded by anything except the tears seeing Anders being so weak in his arms had put there.

 

_But even the mighty fall_ , he thinks as he searches out a vein in the bend of his arm nearly crying in relief as he aims and succeeds in finding his vein with the needle the first time. Feeling oddly proud that he could at least do this right even after so long of going without this particular fix. Then again he was Anders, the bloody king of being able to do everything right when what he was doing was in the greatest of wrongs to be committed.

 

The fiery raging blisteringly agonizing burn that races through his veins as the needle empties its precious contents into his body feels like the gentlest of touches from a well known lover after everything that has gone down recently. And he cries even more, this time his tears falling in rivers down his face not stayed by the beard that he had rashly cut off the moment he had stumbled back to his apartment hanging onto his sanity by his fingernails that first night after.. well after.

 

He doesn't stop to think about anything else as he shakily refills the syringe and shoots it into his vein twice more until it is all gone. Again, feeling now not so oddly proud when he sees that his hands weren't shaking as badly as they had been. Its like after all of this time he can finally breath again because he finally got the fix he hadn't known he had been craving. He feels in control of himself. And gods is it not the most pleasurable feeling he has even felt in his life. Even sex with Helen could not compare to this feeling. Not by a long shot.

 

It makes him wonder why he had ever given any of this up. Why he had given up cutting himself all those years ago only to relapse in the last two days when that had also once given him a high almost similar to this.

 

He can't remember that last time he had been in control, ever since he turned twenty-one it had been Bragi who managed the forefront of his actions and words more than a fair majority of the time and before that his had been his drunken bastard of a father and emotionally and then physically absent visage of his mother. Even after those two short years after his dad ran off to sail the seas only to never return and his mother ran off to become a bloody fucking tree of all things those two short years when he had been forced to grow up too fast because Mike who was the oldest brother and who should have been taking care of them not Anders kept leaving, leaving him to reassure Axl and Ty that _“No Mikkel wasn't going to leave and never come back”_ like their parents had.

 

And he did come back and with his coming back he stole all of the control Anders had gained in his life and chained him down with even tighter bonds than their parents had making him feel like a caged wild animal ready to snap their teeth at anyone who got to close or poked a stick at it. But now he felt free. He felt like for once in his life he could just only care about himself and let go of all obligations he felt he owed towards his brothers.

 

Of course it was only when this last thought about his brother crossed his mind that Anders felt a faint sense of sorrow and guilt that he had robbed them of their brother and their rightful due to end his life themselves after everything he has managed to screw up in their lives. He had tried to warn them but they hadn't listened and while he would like to lay the blame on their shoulders for not listening to him he knew that it was really him that was at fault this time just it was every time. Because if only he had tried a little harder or maybe if he had worded it differently or maybe if he hadn't done all those things he had done in the first place things wouldn't have spiraled so out of control.

 

But it was too late for these regrets, he knew this, and he hated it because even if he didn't deserve anything good in his life his brothers, Ty and Axl and even Mike did and by the gods he hoped that him ceasing to be in their lives totally and forever permanently would give them the happiness his presence in their lives had robbed them of.

 

To think that he would die alone on the floor of his closest curled up next to three discarded empty bottle's of (in his opinion below A-Grade) Vodka, two small stubs that even to a person not as well versed with the product as Olaf was couldn't not recolonize them for what they were, and the ever so obvious rubber belt and syringe that could really only mean one thing to anybody with a lick of sense in them.

 

Funny how in his last moments he was to die next to the things that had truly become his best and dearest friends over the years. The only thing that would make the picture of himself in his head more complete was if his were only dressed in his boxers so that the world could see the wounds it had caused him to inflict on himself to help him stay just sane enough to function through every day to day task. And the presence of the few mementos that he treasured more than his own life lying on the floor scattered about around his collapsed splayed and nearly unconscious form just seemed to 'click' like the last piece of a great puzzle in his head.

 

He hated to think just what this exact picture of his last moments when his self-loathing had finally caused him to snap and end it all would cause pain to bloom in his brothers and Dawn, even his laid back down to earth grandfather and maybe even the few goddesses who weren't literally and figuratively complete back stabbing bitches. Or you know whoever it was that found his body. It didn't matter, not now, or at least that is what he tried to convince himself of as he felt his breath stick in his chest his lungs refusing to work any longer and his heart to slow down to such a snail paced crawl that he knew that everything all the hurt and pain and everything would be other in mere minutes.

 

He was a selfish ass hole didn't they know? He doesn't care about anybody but himself and he surely doesn't anybody else's help either. Whey would he? Why would they? Why, when all he has ever done is screw things up and has only ever been the biggest fuck up in the history of the whole human race?

 

The taste of bile filled his mouth at the last thought but not because he knew that it wasn't true, he did, he really did know just how much of a bastard and a prick he was. How could he not know when given every chance everyone around him and everyone he has ever loved has pointed this exact fact out to him time and time again.

 

By the gods he knew it and that's what made him finally relax, its what made the small smile spread across his face, the small upward tilt of the corners of his lips only an all too vivid ghost of the large grin that once made its home in that exact place what seemed to be a thousand years ago fir him now.

 

And as Anders' heart beat its last he finally accepted that this had always been his lot in life, he finally accepted that he was okay with it as long as none of his brothers not Axl who was the person to finally cue him into falling over the edge, not Ty who only ever tried and tried and yet didn't try nearly hard enough to see past the facade Anders always put up for the world and its mother to see, and certainly not Mike who despite everything truly had been the one to set him free, got the same lot, it was his to bare and only his.

 

Them? His brothers that he still loved more than he logically should? He wished them long lives and happiness, he wished them everything he could never have because they were his _brothers_ and he would always do what he needed to do for his brothers no matter how big the cost it was for him.

 

To Anders, his brothers had been his world ever since he was old enough to know just what love was and when his world had been so cruelly but also so fairly been ripped from him and he stripped from any kind of way to find atonement for his many sins against his world, well.. he didn't have anything else to live for.

 

The absolute last thought he had was an echo of his darkest demons coming back to haunt him one last time in a cruel fair-thee-well that broke what was left of his soul and heart for they were one and the same yet somehow completely separate for reasons that had never really made themselves known to him even on his worst days;

 

_They never cared for you Andy, they never needed your help._

_Why would they when you always managed to fuck everything up time and time again?_

_Why would they when they have each other?_

_They never needed you Anders, and they never needed Andy either._

_They only needed a human punching bag to take every single hit meant for them so they could keep their innocence._

_They only ever needed Bragi._

_Not you; never you._

_Face it Anders, its you who needed them not the other way around._

_You have always been weak._

_Just look at yourself, you took the easy way out, you couldn't even own up to your sins and face the music like a man._

_And you know that they won't even miss you, you know they won't._

_Admit it, after all its only us here._

_No one even cares enough to come see to your dead body._

_You will rot away and your brother and your grandfather and Dawn, they will all continue living their happy lives without you._

_They won't miss you, they hate you, always have and always will they have just never showed it before._

_You should have listened to me Sunshine, I may be a demon but I am also you god damned fucking bloody guardian angel and you know._

_Maybe now you will finally see the light of it all, the silver lining._

_Of course you will, you're dying like the weak ass prick they all know you are._

_Well lights out Sunshine I'm not going anywhere but you sure as hell are._

_And this time I hope you will remember all of your past fuck ups so you won't do them again._

_After all, you wouldn't want daddy to get mad and hurt Axl or Ty now would you?_

_I thought not._

_See you on the other side Anders, its been fun but this next time around is going to be great._

_Just you wait, just you wait and see Andy._

 

**Author's Note:**

> So I actually felt like I could stand to leave a parting AN. Wow I know its a huge surprise to me too. To point a couple things out; I would like to once again like to say that I have not really watched enough of this wonderful show to know the time line or anything like that I am mainly just going by the gist's of what I picked up off of other fanfic's I have read. So sorry that it is most probably not at all accurate. I just felt the need to pick up the rawest emotions I could find and try to twist them to my will. Mind telling me how I well or badly I managed to pull that off? If you would, it would be much appreciated on my end. I do love feed back. It is the only way to improve after all. Also I just realized that I might have just left an opening for myself to write a couple more fic's off of this one. Points to you if you caught what I might have accidentally managed to put in the last couple lines. Reincarnation? Did I really hint at that? Well I never! ;p Okay, so i didn't put that there on purpose it just kind of appeared but oh well I think it turned out pretty good. Maybe a bit over kill on the angst part of it but what can I say? I love twisting the raw emotions of humans. Life is just more fun this way. Anyway, "ta ta" and :fair thee well" and whatever else you might say as a "see you in a bit ol' chap". I feel the need to make some cookies. So until next time. Leave a note or whatever. :D
> 
> Maggie ;p


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